


Mind Less

by meiqis



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Dom/sub Play, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, shameless filth basically, this is just... porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 05:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19267177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiqis/pseuds/meiqis
Summary: Zhengting needed a way to destress and he, coincidentally, found it when he wanted to snoop around his friend's new boyfriend. Also, coincidentally, said way to destress turned into a very embarrassing habit of his.





	Mind Less

**Author's Note:**

> Me: finishes an exam  
> Also me: let's destress by conjuring up filth
> 
> Well, anyways, I started this around one week ago when I was in a mood and since porn is somewhat easier to write than actual plot... yeah, destress, lmao. Except I can't write dick so enjoy my usual mess. Ending is a bit rushed because @ Gems told me to make it shortER so this resulted in me not breaking a 10k mark as I'm used to but... what goes! At least it is rather comically written for my standards so -
> 
> Enjoy, with your little pervy minds!
> 
> p.s.: Typos are for free and come without guarantee! rhyhming is fun and there's... lots of sun... or something...

There were little secrets everyone kept, Zhengting had figured early on in his life, about things they had seen, emotions they felt, desires they kept within their hearts. Some people were surely lucky and learned it the easy way, he had learnt it the tough way when he had found his parents fighting cruelly, their voices hushed so they wouldn’t wake up their children but as he had woken up from a nightmare and found his sister staying on top of the staircase looking down, shushing him to keep quiet, he had known better than to interrupt their heated whispered fight. Instead he had been put back to bed by his sister who told him not to mention about it. He had kept that secret even when he had found his mother banging her secretary, not telling his father, because at this point in time, not intruding on their marital difficulties had become as natural as brushing his teeth in the morning.  
Sometimes it was about likes and dislikes (like him watching his sister eat the cucumbers she hated just because her boyfriend of that time had apparently been oblivious to this, she just hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings), sometimes those were expressed in habits. The latter he had enough of his own, expressed in the way he kept dancing until his waist was hurting despite knowing better, despite having been told to watch it not only by his teacher but also his doctor lest he’d risk a serious injury. There was also his tendency to escape situations or questions that made him feel awkward by a spurt of arrogance just to throw others off and then change topic suddenly. And then there was one last habit of his, one that was undoubtedly the worst of them all - his method of de-stressing.  
Admittedly, it wasn’t the most noble form of, there surely were comparably harmless options like taking a long bath to soak his aching muscles in the scalding heat, or going to some pet café to find some small animal to cuddle. Just that he arguably wasn’t all that smart and his petty traits had led him to his current point of standing over and over again. (He still put part of the blame on Zeren, his most beloved dance junior attending university with him, because that little fucker had showed up to practice with all kinds of bruises on his body. If asked, Zhengting would deny all charge for having asked the younger about it, only to get to know that the other had met this hot dancer in a club some months ago but, surprisingly, that guy wasn’t some professional, or on his way there, unlike them, but did it only as a hobby. And worked at some BDSM club, which was the reason for the bruises on the student’s body because, apparently, sometime in between going out to some club and ending up with uncountable bruises they had hooked up, dated, and his innocent dork of a friend had discovered his masochistic tendencies because Yanchen was that good of a dom. After this story and a first visit of his own, he had figured BDSM was a dancer thing. Sue him.)  
His first time coming here, stepping into the kind of brothel that looked more like a hospital dyed black and gold, had been not to book a session for himself, although that had been a necessity for his plan, but to find out just who his junior’s new boyfriend was. He hadn’t been repeatedly accused of being some sort of mother hen for no reason, after all. Turned out, some dumb girl on the phone had understood “Yanjun” instead of “Yanchen”, so when he had reached room number 12 and opened it, he hadn’t been met by that tall, pale, and dark haired man he knew from Zeren’s stories nor a room looking lush but rather bright for that speciality in some sort of daddy kink and supposed mixture of harsh treatments but soft words, but instead with another tall albeit blond and honey skinned beauty introducing himself with such a smooth voice it had sent shivers down his spine. “It’s your first time, right? I’m Yanjun but I guess you can call me whatever you prefer.”  
So excuse him for having fallen into a minute of silence because a) no, this was not the guy he had been looking for and b) he had never before seen someone quite as handsome. Okay, maybe Ziyi would count but that dude was as double straight as a ladder with properly adjusted and set in right angles steps, so he kind of missed the spot on the “gay-or-bi fucking hotties making you weak in the knees with their smiles” list and, fuck, this guy right in front of him had dimples. It had indeed made him weak in the knees but also ready to throw a punch at this unnecessarily obnoxious bastard right in front of him.  
No need to mention he had had no idea how exactly he had ended up a whining, begging, screaming, trembling mess on burgundy silk sheets within only a handful of hours and getting closer to the most intense orgasm up to that day despite not even having been dicked down. Because that asshole of some tan god had “manners” and didn’t put it out during the first time. Quite some manners those had been because at least three different toys of arguably too big size had been used on him instead.  
Unfortunately, Zeren had been right, and giving up all sorts of control to someone else had been relaxing, helped to get rid of stress, and having someone as skilled while possessing such velvety voice had undoubtedly had something to do with it as well. So he had gone there again, and, honestly, it must have been some dancer thing.

That or maybe he just was whipped and had too much fun riling up Yanjun, mostly because it meant getting a better dicking but a tiny, tiny, almost invisible, part of him also was a hopeless romantic - it was written in his horoscope so fault that! - so within these some hours of a session he wanted to indulge the idea that it had been not because of money but actual affection that the older seemed to act so jealous. Or “act as idiotically possessive boyfriend” had been something he had naively written on the profile he had needed to hand in but that was something he had so not taken seriously, he couldn’t remember a single thing from that except having put in his real name since they had already seen his credit card anyways. He must not have taken it too serious back then.  
Although it had led him to this current situation that, this time around, he had to blame himself for, and oh, was it bittersweet, to find himself blindfolded and kneeling on the ground, butt plug still stuck between his cheeks, and he was too aware of how just a little adjusting his position would press its curve right against his prostate. An idea he had to drop because he could feel Yanjun’s heated gaze on him, setting his skin on fire and then, with just the faintest brush of knuckles along his sensitive neck, he already found himself releasing a low and wanton moan, calling for attention, for more, but all he received was a a slap against his arm with a crop. Not his thighs nor ass because that would lead him to moving slightly, maybe hitting jackpot to have the toy press against where he needed it most, and that sadistic fucker was nothing if not cunning enough to know exactly how to avoid such fortunate mistake.  
“You’re so needy, babydoll. I’m not sure I should be disappointed in you for being such a whore to fuck around just hours before you come to me, knowing no one is even close to satisfy you the way I can,” the standing purred, fucking purred, ending his words by moving one tan hand into honey locks to yank the dancer’s head back, eliciting nothing but another loud moan, “or whether I should admire you. Fucking around and still daring to show up like this in front of me, hm?” This time such words were accompanied by something cold, probably the crop, tracing the underside of his dick, standing against his stomach, swollen and ruddy and close to aching from unfulfilled desire having accumulated ever since having fucked himself open on his own fingers in the university bathroom only to stuff some obscene amount of milky colored lube and that plug into his ass next. It was enough to nearly have him jerk his hips forward, stubbornly reducing it to the slightest of flinches that was, leniently, overseen. “I’m tempted to call you my whore today instead, babydoll. Who else would be so desperate to still be all wet and dripping despite having already been screwed open? Are you that needy for me?”  
Little, embarrassingly high whines escaped the dancer’s lips with every question, not daring to answer in words but knowing how much these sounds would affect even Yanjun, cold demeanor and professionalism aside, it had come up before, after one of their earlier appointments, when they had still bit by bit explained what got them both going each. It also was easier for him, not having to hold back everything, to be allowed to express his neediness and craving for attention of all sorts one way or another, especially since he wasn’t allowed to use words as long as he was on the way to and stuck in that special space of mind that only the tan male could awake within him. Those questions, and his reactions, made it seem all so real, even though they both - would be sad if Zhengting weren’t, honestly - were aware of how he hadn’t been taken by anyone else, because not only was there no time in between practicing and studying, being a functioning human, and getting his brains banged out of his head, but he had also signed some sort of contract forbidding him any other sexual intercourse without informing his assigned host due to the risk of infections. Which applied especially to him because he was healthy, perfectly so, if one disregarded his upset joints and tendons, and he was in great favor of not using a condom when it meant making the experience that much better. And Yanjun made it that much better.  
“If only you could look at yourself now, babydoll,” the older started again, moving that cursed hand from already slightly sweaty hair to that so sweetly exposed neck, tracing where the artery presumably lay with his knuckles, and even just that was already enough to make the dancer whine low in his throat and tilt his head back further. “This was meant to make you calm down before your punishment but it seems you’re enjoying this… Shouldn’t you feel ashamed of yourself?” Fingers traveled up, along his jaw and then to his lips, thumb brushing against the lower until it gave way, fingertip sliding along his row of teeth, and Zhengting was aware it was just another cruel move, denying him of even the slightest chance of returning the teasing by showing what he could do with his tongue that currently seemed to lay so uselessly within his mouth when he couldn’t suck dick like he had been taught. “Answer me, babydoll - are you sorry for yourself?”  
Instead of a proper word, he could only whimper again when that finger was removed from him again at first, but feeling the softest tap of the crop against the head of his dick reminded him to behave, although that meant using his brain and he wasn’t so certain he hadn’t lost that one in favor of his cock pulsating already. “‘m sorry… I shouldn’t… be like this after getting fucked but…” He stopped, releasing some needy sound when feeling the insides of his thighs getting tapped by the whipping tool to prompt him to spread his legs further, doing so until he could feel the softest of burns in his tendons. “Sir- Master… Need you… Need you so much, oh plea-” When he felt something press against the butt plug somewhat revealed by his position, he couldn’t help falling forward until he felt the rod against his shoulder, trying to rut his hips against the slightest of pressures with his own wants having built up within the last minutes more than he had realized. If he had felt a bit embarrassed before about having to lie about someone else fucking him (and it had been a poor performance when Yanjun had asked him about just why there some something stuck in his ass while he had undressed), or answering these questions now, he definitely felt that way now that he had broken into a fit of disobedience.  
Again, it was a bittersweet experience, because it meant getting punished more heavily and that meant greater pleasure, it also meant getting punished and having to wait longer, though. And after months of slowly and carefully being introduced into how to discover and use whatever he was feeling currently, and how to control himself, he couldn’t help but feel pitiful whenever his bodily reactions got the better of him, not because being horny was shameful, that would mean having to shame teenage him, but because disappointing the blond, no matter how often he wanted to curse him out, was making him feel shameful.  
This time again, the reaction didn’t take long to come, pressure being applied to the tool so he’d sit up straight again only to feel it hit the softer inside of his thigh in one harsh slap, making him arch his back in a way he knew would have him hear a soft “beautiful…” on other days, and release one heady groan that was immediately rewarded with another slap. When it even made him spread his legs farther, invitingly, he could hear some sort of sound he wasn’t sure was a mocking coo or sign of being impressed, but he was quite certain that Yanjun had put some distance between them from how his body rapidly lost on temperature, as if their being close was equal to pouring fuel into a fire called his body heat. Being blindfolded, in that case, was intriguing, because as much as it was a punishment, making him oblivious to the other’s whereabouts or of what was next to come, and awfully sensitive to everything that came thanks to his own anticipations and the unexpectedness of the situations, it also carried some sense of a reward within it, allowing his senses to heighten to the point he heard the rustle of sheets of someone sitting down he would have most likely missed any other time.  
“Come here, babydoll, and apologize properly.” Compared to earlier, it seemed like an easier command, get his ass over there, do a proper job with his kneeling position and Yanjun’s sitting position, it was like a 1+1 kind of equation, that only was made unbearably difficult because there still was some plug stuck in his ass, his hands were tied up behind his back, and he was blindfolded, leaving him with nothing but a distorted version of the room to orientate himself, because it was based on standing terms not kneeling on the ground, and a vague direction of where he had heard that voice come from. At least it wasn’t the first time he had been made to move through the room like this, albeit he had had his hands to use then, because it had seemed like too much for him at first. (It had been degrading in new ways that shouldn’t even excite him but most of all he had been afraid of hitting his head against something and thus embarrassing himself. Sensing his hesitation, back then Yanjun had asked whether it wasn’t his job to watch out for his babydoll, whether Zhengting thought so low of him and wanted to insult him by not expecting a sign of warning in case of injury. After those, he had felt more embarrassed about his own lack of trust more than the idea of hurting himself.) But he had gotten better at it, enough so that he knew what to look out for, these little hints of the older to give away his position when he diverted too far, or how there seemed to be unintentional noises like adjusting his position on the bed to give away clues.  
No matter how much he hate-loved the cockiness of the blond, not once had the dancer been unable to feel a surge of affection during these softer moments laced into their session, soft words, little caresses, small hints. It had made his heart flutter at first or taken him by surprise, but now that they had progressed further, gotten intimate with each other on so many levels and in so many ways, it only filled the pit of his stomach with warmth, knowing he was cared for and taken care of. Despite his nervousness about the upgraded level of having no hands to use, he felt safe as he made his way through what he thought of the room’s placements, the softness of the carpet put onto the bed’s side, the side usually used for when bending over the furniture or having to wait, a crucial hint to having nearly reached where he needed to.  
Mere seconds and he felt his bare knee hit a stranger set of feet, immediately flinching back and putting his limb down elsewhere and adjusting until he could feel the outer low of his thighs press against the insides of Yanjun’s calves, helping him orientate himself. So far there had been no reaction, no encouragement nor order, encouraging him to go on, lean his head sideways until he could feel the smooth fabric of dress pants against his cheek, making his way up until he felt the hardness of that beloved cock against his nose, but before he could even so much as part his lips to place kisses along the hidden shaft, a lot of things seemed to happen at once. There was a hand around his neck and a foot nudging beneath his folded legs, combined force of them pushing upwards having him stumble and with another use of force, he already found himself toppled over onto the mattress and his wrists freed of the silken band tied around previously.  
“Hands on the rest,” was the only order he received before that dipping weight on the mattress next to him disappeared, noises of steps silenced by the softness of the floor that made it harder for him to figure out whether Yanjun was still closeby or far away, and yet he knew better than to take the risk and disobey. His movements weren’t timid but still careful as he moved his hands into the direction of where he supposed the lower end of the bed was, shifting his weight until his fingers hit the wooden board there and he could safely rest his palms and lower arms against the upside of it, cushions covered in leather serving as a softer surface for elongated times rather than the harsh wood of a normal bed frame. Although there were beds without such applications too, as he had learned when once they had needed to move to one of the secondary rooms, ironically that one shared between Yanjun and Yanchen, and the employee had just thrown one look at it, then at the dancer, and then pointed out a change of plans because he wouldn’t use harsh edges on someone needing to use their body. Which only translated to one another situation so bad for his hopelessly romantic heart when he was certainly aware it was still just part of professionalism. Out of curiosity, he had asked Yanjun whether he’d would have gone through with the original plan if with a not-dancer that day, he had instead been answered, “I would have with anyone who isn’t a pillow princess like you, babydoll.” Also to be understood as: Yes, I would have.  
It made him more appreciative towards the fact he was allowed this more comfortable option, already arching his back with his hips high and forehead falling into the leather, and whining wantonly when he realized this position did nothing for his sweet spot. Slowly parting his legs until he had just the right angle seemed like the most reasonable of options in this kind of situation, but one to regret when feeling only the softest of nudges against his rim ahead of gaping emptiness within him. The plug was gone. And with the plug gone, he could feel the lube oozing out of his fluttering hole craving to be filled again, a complete opposite to his dick twitching in interest with the obscene situation of the liquid slowly running down his cleft, making his skin sticky and sensitive to the air. It didn’t come close to the worst of the situation and the peak of his arousal, all too aware of the color the lubricant within him had, he didn’t even want to imagine what it must look like, the milky liquid slowly dripping out of his ass, making him look like just fucked, certain his pucker was somewhat puffy from over an hour of having had that toy within him, and his suspicion towards his looks seemed only to be proven right when he felt one warm hand press against his cheek and pull it apart, making him clench his insides and squeeze another throb out.  
“Just like a whore…” It was meant as some sort of degradation but he couldn’t help notice the appreciative undertone, especially when he felt one finger - thumb - press against his entrance, rubbing around the lube and pressing against the muscle, and even without having been fucked nor touched by anything but his own fingers, he couldn’t help feeling as sensitive as if an orgasm had just washed over him, imagination of what he must look like enough to fill in the spaces of what would have lead to it, and it drove him right to that cliff of hitting a high when one single finger entered him. His legs trembled shortly and his back arched further, choked off moan released, only to have that finger gone as quickly as he had been catapulted towards his climax.  
Fitting of the way he felt so needily, he could feel his hips chasing after the sensation, and at the same time he was all too obvious of the fact how heavy his cock felt between his head, not even daring to look at it when already he knew it looked no better than red riding hood, dressed in such ruddy shade, and with the amount of precum that had soiled the low of his stomach and now must be pooling below him on the sheets, it must look as if he had already cum once before. “Sir… please…” He whined, couldn’t help the words escaping him despite knowing what would come next, the heavy slap against his cheek, left, then right, left again, that made his ass tingle and burn and had him jerking forth with every slap not to mention moaning out loud. It didn’t stop there, that same warm hand was still kneading his flesh and it was distracting from what he knew was happening, that Yanjun was only diverting his attention from what was to come.  
Not that he could deny it working, because he really was distracted, too focused on the sensation of such soft massage, the way it emphasized the tingling of his flesh and spread the heat further. “Did I allow you to talk, babydoll?” That velvety smooth voice asked, too close for comfort as he felt those sinful lips right against his ear, every brush sending a little electric shock down his spine and between his legs, twitches of his cock too definite for him to ignore. “You’re so bratty today, just when I thought I had trained you well enough. Last time you were still so eager to choke on my cock but look at you now…” Clicking his tongue right next to Zhengting’s ears, and then that wet muscle was already brushing against the younger’s lobe, curling around it to gently tug at the piercing before disappearing again.  
Instead there were fingers working the back of his head, to unfasten the blindfold as he realized some moments later when light wasn’t any longer filtered by the velvet wrapped around his eyes. At least these rooms were dim enough to never irritate his orbs with his sudden grant of light, more so when his hair was yanked and he was forced to look up, finding himself with a mirror in front of himself now.  
“Just look at you, babydoll,” that devilish forked tongue continued, close to his ear again, but this time around he had the full experience, wasn’t no longer a blind visitor to this cinema called his pleasure, and for the first time since having stepped into Yanjun’s realm was he also able to take in the appearance of the older - golden skin flushed around the bare chest, pants tight from where the erection pressed against it, eyes so dark and looking black and demonic where they took in his experience the same way as he did with the older. Which also led him to his own appearance, how his skin had turned red around his neck and shoulders, skin glistening with sweat from exertion, the high arch of his hips that allowed him to even see his own ass in the reflection but not his own dick being so proudly stiff, very well so the tremble of his thighs and flinching of his hips though. “Look at you - so needy, the very definition of neediness… You’re so beautiful like this, babydoll.”  
Fuck Yanjun and his repeated use of this nickname of his… It had taken several sessions for them to figure out what got him going best, from sugar over insults to baby, and the last had done best but it had yet not been enough, and this so unique one was doing things to him he couldn’t put into words, a weakness of some sort, which now was so shamelessly abused. Mix it with these insults and it would explain his reacting even stronger, these degradory words only to be nearly rewarded with that sweet nickname of his… He curled his fingers around the leather, having to hold himself back from crying out for more because he wanted, needed, more, the emptiness within him devastating when he wanted nothing more than get fucked into the sheets until he was all pliant and brainless thanks to the employee.  
Even the mere sensation, and sight, of the tan male leaving his side was enough to make him whine needily again, eyes tracing after the walking only to get reprimanded about having to keep his eyes on the mirror soon enough, observe just how desperate he was looking like this. It was the first time he had to look at himself, and it shouldn’t surprise him that his darn narcissistic tendencies were amplifying the pleasure he felt, and yet it did, because after hours of having needed to watch himself in the glass while practicing, he really wouldn’t have thought such situation would affect him as much.  
So lost in the sight he would have nearly forgotten about Yanjun would said male not have moved into his sight again, lean back turned towards the mirror to intentionally hide whatever was held by those slender finger, perfectly hovered behind his legs so he couldn’t see. Not like he’d pay attention anyways when all he saw was that incubus of a man - until he felt something against his crack, at least. The tip alone gave away it was one of the bigger toys owned, so bulbous as it caught onto his rim and gave him a hint of the size that finally was revealed to him when the older turned towards the glassen tool again. “Watch well, babydoll,” he reprimanded, and it was enough to have the dancer glance at his own ass perked up high, gaping when he saw the pink and nearly translucent toy, thicker and longer than any used on him before but oh so fricking tempting.  
He whined, low in his throat, and pushed his hips back like a plead only to get punished by another single spank of his cheek, the hit coming off as surprise despite having seen that calloused palm approach his behind. Again, he put his attention on that toy he so desperately craved to feel inside him, no trace of the hesitation he had felt during their first time left, when all these tools and playthings had been new to him, and now they were his second most favorite things to feel entrapped by his walls. Right after Yanjun’s dick. This one was not only new, it had a design he hadn’t seen before, after using plugs of various sizes, thicker, thinner, dildos too and vibrators that had such different modes, of plunging and rotating and just trembling, but there were ridges encarved like spirals around it, like a pillar’s decoration, and he was still deliberating what it would feel like inside of him when it was already pushed inside.  
Breaking down seemed all too likely when feeling the sheer thickness of it, the rounded tip so perfectly pressing against his prostate with too much force whenever it was pushed into him agonizingly slow and pulled out with just the same speed, and each of these grooves, he decided, were utter torture. He felt them against his walls and, even worse, how they caught onto his rim, making him sensitive towards the sensation of, and all of it combined was just bittersweet pleasure. It was too much but not nearly enough, and he didn’t even need to look - not like he’d dare to anyways - to know he was dripping precum like crazy down onto the sheets beneath him. “M-master… Sir… please… Fuc-!”  
He could pretty much countdown on them, a handful of thrusts more and he’d be thrown over the cliff he had already approached once before, would get closer more easily with every time he was pushed close to the edge, and to have to watch it happen like this, how the thick piece of plastic was pushed into him again and again, the speed not supporting his approach but very much so the force held within it, was adding another flavor to this situation. One last thrust or two, it would be all he’d need to find relief, despite knowing it wouldn’t be satisfactory, and even that was taken from him when, once again, the dildo was pulled out of him and this time not again entering him.  
Despite knowing better, he couldn’t help himself from crumbling down this time, hips colliding with the mattress as a desperate noise freed itself from his throat and it took his last bit of self restraint not to grind into the mattress to chase his so close orgasm. At least his last effort was rewarded with a helping hand, or hands, that pulled him up and back into his kneeling position, little caresses that were supposed to soothe him but, on the contrary, only made him all the more needy as little whimpers escaped him, eyes trained on the mirror in front of him to look at his own state. In any other situation, he would feel ashamed of the sight, just how much he looked like a mess, but that appreciative gaze within the older’s gaze darkened by lust gave him something to hold on to, wanting - craving - to please the other and meet his demands.  
Once he had considered picking up his courage to ask just what these gazes meant, when it had been the end of their meeting and he had still felt drained of all energy laying on top of the crumbled and messy sheets, his skin heated not only from their activities but also from this very same look he had received. Only his heart had felt too weak to deal with the answer, demanding him to come to a conclusion of his own, which was somewhat influenced by having asked Zeren as to how he was able to put up with his own boyfriend crossing the lines of prostitution and permitted cheating. “Because he likes it a lot,” the student had replied back then, voice void of strained despite the stretchings they both had been busied with. “He’s also not a fan of me risking another injury with dance but he knows I love it so he doesn’t stop me either. And isn’t accepting each other’s interests even when we don’t like them more important than our pride?”  
It must be not unlike Yanjun’s situation, Zhengting reasoned, as he took in that sickeningly pleased expression, fucking sadism that could only be satisfied in ways like these, and he really wasn’t in any position to complain when he returned to this experience over and over again thanks to the ways it made him feel. These little gestures and this darnedly alluring voice that infiltrated his ears again when asking, “Are you able to go on, babydoll? I’m not yet done with you.” A single nod, and then he was met with another spank, this time around stronger to the point it nearly had him break down again with this odd mixture of pleasure-pain coursing through his body and taking his mind off the matter enough to not even realize what had happened until he felt something tight around the base of his dick. “Such a sweet thing you are, babydoll, dealing with your punishment so well.”  
There wasn’t even time for him to protest, whine, beg - anything, because the next instant that same dildo was driven into him again, hitting his prostate dead on and the force of it, this time around, was enough to not only throw him over the edge, but catapult him there with the force of a rocket launch. Shudders wreaked havoc throughout his body and he nearly screamed from the sensation, such sound fading out into mindless blabbers and whimpers when his relief wasn’t cut short, not the least, because not only wasn’t he allowed to experience anything but a dry orgasm thanks to the ring but, more so, this cruel hand kept the tip stubbornly nudging against his sweet point to the point it hurt and drove tears to his eyes.  
“Yan- Sir- No… Fuck!” He stuttered when it was pressed a bit further down, his legs giving out once again and only thanks to the merciful hand holding onto his hips, his fall was somewhat eased, leading to him resting in an uncomfortable position with his lower body down on the sheets and his shoulders up still supported on the rest. Where he didn’t stay long, the pressure within him easing and allowing him to return from that state of white haziness to instead being flipped onto his back, and stars were still dancing around as he looked at the dark ceiling above while the after-effects of his climax rushed through his body, leading to random jerks of his muscles as he tried to ease himself down by calming at least his breath.  
Considering his age, he hadn’t been new to sex or masturbation and he had his own share of exploring kinks on the vanilla scale, but after having found Yanjun, there was no doubt the older possessed an uncanny ability to literally screw his brains out, making each climax feel like a quake shaking up his own little planet, pulling him apart and back together, and that had yet been one without actually getting screwed into the pillows. His thoughts were a mess, a scramble of wants and needs and being just blissed out, it itched him in his fingers to feel some of that smooth skin of another body beneath his hands, to press his lips against tough flesh in retaliation to what he had experienced only seconds prior, but any thought that might even have begun forming was forced out of him along with a high-pitched sound that resembled a scream when the toy was pushed back into his pliant body, no resistance from his side, traitorous form he owned, but very much so driving him into a hint of overstimulation as the tool was moved around the slightest bit and caused him to arch his back to the point any of his dance teachers would have yelled in shock.  
There were fireworks bursting on the ceiling, actually just his vision but let a boy be dramatic, and his dick was twitching painfully, still rock hard and aching against his stomach, acting as that little brain of men to scream at him to just find relief despite his bigger - although currently useless - brain knowing it was fruitless effort. Despite it not being another orgasm, he felt like taking eternity to calm down, whining helplessly, and quite pitifully, until the pressure eased again, and while the dildo remained within him this time around, at least it wasn’t forced against his prostate anymore.  
A soothing hand was carding through his hair, tugging softly at his hair, merely the slightest pull to make him focus again and direct his still blurry side at that demon incarnate in front of him, kneeling, and at some point having at least opened up his trousers to allow underwear to be seen, along with the erection having already forced its way to peek out now that the restraints of another layer of fabric and buttons had been removed. “You look so beautiful like this, babydoll. Wrecked, fucked out,” the tan male purred, heavens be forsaken, fricking purred, and that along with the thumb sliding along his lower lip, pulling it down and then dragging at the corner of his mouth, was all of an invitation he needed.  
His limbs were trembling and he felt void of all strength, more so than any dance practice ever could do, and regardless Zhengting pushed himself up to crawl closer to the older, hinting at just the slightest bit of a shove to have Yanjun rest into the mass of pillows placed against the headboard while he made it his mission to kiss down his body. Starting from the collarbones and down the chest, tongue tracing the faint line of pecs and teeth dragging along the edges of ribs, it felt like heaven to press his lips against the fine ridges of abs until he had reached the waistband of the briefs. Returning some hint of cruelty, he left out the middle, where that ambitious tip was located, and instead directing his attention to the sides, open mouthed kisses against the hip bones and elastic, until his teasing was rewarded with a reaction that came by light nudging against his head to focus where it was needed.  
Not that he did mind, god, no, because already Wenjun with his dumb psychology major had accused him of having an oral fixation with how often he was eating snacks or found with a lollipop stuck between his lips during exam preparations, with time having infected most of his other friends too, and at times it was convenient. With these times he meant sex - sucking dick, to be exact. He loved it, all of it, he had enjoyed it before with his exes and flings and he more than adored it with Yanjun, the weight on his tongue, how it stretched his mouth open, the suffocating side effect of deepthroating, the salty taste that only seemed sweeter with this object of infatuation because that fucker probably ate a handful of cranberries or a whole pineapple on the daily, pleasing as it was. People in the sex field should be cursed for making themselves so damn enjoyable.  
It was this very occupation he pursued right now, starting with kittenish licks across the tip and mouthing a bit against the upper half of what was revealed, mewling at the mere girth and the idea of what it would feel like when it was pushed into his mouth and that place was fucked open the very same way as his hole had been. Taking control now would be easy, to wrap his fingers around the hidden base and pull down the underwear with his free hand, but if it was dominance he was aiming at, he could have hit up the next best guy at a club. It was peak ambivalence that he hated this very man for all his sadistic leading and what it did to him, while at the same time it was what he craved most, making him unresponsive to the idea of desiring anyone else for weeks now.  
Instead, he looked up from beneath his lashes, lower arms placed on the mattress, their body entangled in the way that clothed legs were pulled up a bit just so he could place his arms beneath, reaching around them to curl his fingers around the tougher fabric of trousers covering those alluring hips, have something to ground him while Yanjun picked up on his hinted at intentions and hooked one thumb to the corner of his mouth in a way not unlike some moments ago, stretching his lip apart and coaxing his tongue out to rest upon his lower teeth. A smart move, because next thing he knew the weight he had craved so much was dropped onto his open mouth, the tip already wet from precum and his own saliva placed against his oral muscle to serve as some sort of red carpet of entrance. Each little movement was carefully executed, making sure the erection wouldn’t slip as his head was pulled down again, until maybe a fourth of the length was met by the heat of his mouth, and the pressure against his tongue was making it hard for him to swallow down.  
Yanjun liked it messy, at least where blowjobs were concerned, so it was no surprise to him that he was left like this, heaviness on his lower jaw and mouth kept open, until saliva was dripping down his chin and that delicious shaft, his breathing a bit heavier from the position alone, but with the thumb removed it was like receiving a green light he immediately took as prompt to go on. His lips closed around the girth that felt like already stretching out his lips, making him moan in contentment as he kept his tongue rubbing against the underside, tracing the veins he was already familiar with from sensation and as one of the things he knew were delightful to be played with by the other, kept going at such until there was a strain to the muscle and he moved to curl it around what he could reach within the confinement of his mouth. It turned into a steady change of using his tongue or suction, taking breaks to inhale air into his lungs and he was mean, intentionally using his mouth to breathe just so the stream of ear would send the anticipated shivers down the older’s spine, turning it into a game of patience.  
He wasn’t certain who of them started it first, with fingers curled into his hair since the beginning, but at some point it became an alternation of soft tugs against his hair to pull him up and have him focus on the tip again, and his going down the length to swallow more and more of it, until his greed became his downfall when he went to the point of choking, the tip nudging against the entrance of his throat, and the gargled moan he released snapped something within the receiver. Within an instant both hands were wrapped around the back of his neck and head to push him down, have him relentlessly gagging on it despite how it took barely two or three attempts until he was nosing against glistening abs thanks to the whole of Yanjun’s dick being forced down his throat. It seemed to take a while for realization to hit the commanding one, that he couldn’t go down further, but that moment was enough to lead to a freeze that resulted in Zhengting’s airways being blocked, left without oxygen going to his lungs but most definitely a rush of blood heading for his dick.  
There was no need to look to know he was leaking onto the blanket again because the mere need to rut against the sheets was an indicator of such, wiggling to get some friction for his sensitive members that only lead to the toy pressing into his prostate all over again, making him crumble down at the same moment as his head was forced back and air flowed into him again. It was desperate, embarrassing, absolutely pathetic and maybe dumb considering he actually needed to breathe, but already was he moving down that slick dick again, his eyes wretched indicators of how much he wanted to get ruined as he looked up at that unfairly handsome face only to be met by some soft cooing sound.  
“My pretty little doll,” the one sitting hummed, hands tight around his cervix just to make sure he wouldn’t pull back, not that he wanted to, in first place, when that circle of asphyxiation and respiration might as well be enough to get him another orgasm, “Taking my dick so well - fuck!” It was a little victory, having the older curse only because he had made use of his tongue again, pressing it against the base and curling around with as much force as he possibly could. “You’re really- Do you even know how surprised I was to know you can suck me off so well? You’re such a good thing to me!”  
Amidst all the praises, that honestly made his own cock twitch again, he was pulled up and pushed down again, so focused on making the best of the slightest of moments, of sucking the tip when he had the chance to or inhaling deeply, to using just the littlest bit of teeth to make it sensual not painful, he became blind to anything but the heft within his cavern and the burn of his throat and that deliriously sweet taste of precum that had mixed so well with his own saliva to the point it was dripping down even onto Yanjun’s balls, he had become blind to everything else. Even though that meant the sudden pressure against his bottom sending him lurching forward, to choke on the thick length again, and he really didn’t need that fucked out brain of his to know that the other was fouly using his foot to press against the base of the toy and looking for just the right angle to press into his sweet spot again.  
It was an unfortunate - or fortunate, it depends on the point of view probably - coincidence of hitting just there with the dildo at the same time he was let up for air, the pressure combined with the force of oxygen hitting his lungs was enough to send him over the edge again. Pressure that had not built up from physical stimuli but rather from the delight he took in all these little reactions he had pulled from the other, little gasps and grunts and the ever so obvious way he was controlled, and some twisted pleasure he took from having his mouth misused, from the sweet and salty thickness that was covering his taste buds, from the soft caress of satin sheets, and there he was, nearly crying into another thigh while his fingers helplessly curled into the trousers’ fabric. At this point, his spine already hurt from the stretching of practice and arching of orgasms but he couldn’t even mind it when he was in such bittersweet state of bliss that came from another high of endorphins and the pain of his arousal straining against the cockring, making him cry without realization from how his eyes had been shut tight as he suffered through the tremors.  
Only when his hair was pulled harshly again, this time to the point he was forced to sit up a bit, did he notice just how blurry his sight had gotten, tears smeared by a tan finger while that traitorous foot kept nudging against the toy within him, only driving more tears into his eyes. “Babydoll, only sluts come from sucking dick,” that treacherously smooth voice hummed, content evident in these insulting words, “Or is that how you do now? Is that what you did earlier, suck someone off and coming before them only to have them fuck you in the ass? Must have been a good pounding with how loose you were coming here, huh?”  
Little curses exploded in his mind, he had already forgotten about this little story of their night that now that it came back in such verbal assault, he couldn’t hold the whimper, nor the heat pooling low in his stomach all over again from having been attacked like this. “N-no,” he whined wimpy, fingers tightening around the fabric he had held onto even though he was aware it might be smarter to use his hands for support against the bed lest his hair is not only pulled but also plucked. “Didn’t- Only sucking you- Love your dick, love only your cock, love y-”  
The excessive inhale from in front of him was like a wake up call, eyes widening in surprise at what he himself had just admitted to and seeing a similar, although less comical, expression mirroring his, except Yanjun didn’t seem nearly as startled once those big eyes turned dark all over. It was too fast and over too soon, finding himself down on his fours again and with the toy slowly being pulled out, head held in a vice like grip to force him to look at the mirror again so could not only feel but also see how that dick slick with his spit was pressed against his ass. “That’s right, you love only my cock, babydoll,” was all he heard before that same erection was thrusted into him with one single slam and yet harsh enough to nearly make him cum all over again. “Just look at you, taking it so well- You’re so tight, dear lord, babydoll, are you about to cum again?”  
Little whines he should, and most definitely later would, feel ashamed off escaped him at the sensation, the compliments and the questions, but his response came non-verbally as he only tightened his muscles around the intruding length, wiggling his hips the slightest bit just to have it press against his sweet spot and make him c- Right about to do just that, a harsh slap against his thigh was accompanied by being left empty inside, making him sound out pathetically again and as if that would aid his gaze, his eyes roamed the mirror just so he could find Yanjun’s and plead with his eyes. It had the wanted effect and so much more, because already he was receiving those hard thrusts he needed so much, all right on the spot, hitting his prostate with nothing but brute force, and no matter that it would only have taken a handful of those to have him climax again, it didn’t stop there.  
His whole body felt like a bowstring tied too tight, tense, arrows flying with too much force and too fast, off target from the unexpected force, and it resulted in one relentless assault of waves of an orgasm breaking him down, having him collapsing on the sheets and turning into one pitiful mess thanks to the accumulated arousal of several hours, the oversensitivity, the praises and curses and insults slipping Yanjun’s mouth, it made his climax last an eternity and he wasn’t even overdoing it when describing it as such. It really lasted too long, had him crying out loud and spilling tears of pleasurable pain that soaked into the sheets his head had been dropped onto, either because forcing him up was too much for the other or just because using both hands to support the weight was better to forge the kind of strength needed to wreck his body into shambles.  
He nearly screamed when his amplified orgasm was further multiplied by fingers caressing his neglect and so close to bursting member, rubbing the tip to the point it resembled searing pain more than pleasure but he couldn’t even protest when each thrust was hitting his prostate and forcing nothing but sobs and whimpers out of his mouth. “Fuck, look at you, babydoll. Your body really loves my cock, right?” That devilish voice asked again, breaking shudders down his spine so he’d arch his back further and tighten his walls, whining when it made each drag of flesh against flesh more obvious to him. “Show me.” And if he had wanted to ask just how, then the answer was taken off him with the release of the ring.  
One another thrust, well timed with the loosening of the pressure, and those waves of his orgasm had built up into one tsunami breaking down over him, semen spurting from his length in an amount that must be anything but healthy while the tremble of his body broke him down and rendered him boneless. So overtaken by his high, he couldn’t focus on anything else, as he close to blacked out, not even minding how his body was collapsing onto the bed because any sensation from the outside was already drowned out from the pleasure before it had even started.  
Maybe minutes had passed, minutes of just helplessly shaking as he dealt with the aftereffects and drowning in his own headspace because when he came to, there was a stickiness between his legs that didn’t stem from the lube, had none of that slick glide and he was feeling too stuffed than could be explained with just the overly generous amount of lubricant he had poured into his hole already hours ago, most of which must have escaped him with the toys already. Not only that, instead of finding himself in a mess of limbs, he had been put into a more proper position, head resting on Yanjun’s thighs and a thin blanket spread over his naked and soiled form. Especially next to the older, he must be looking like a sheer wreckage, still bare and sweaty while at least the tan male had already adjusted his trousers and looked more peaceful, resting in between the pillows, nimble fingers playing with his dyed hair.  
It was a soothing gesture, and it was the kind of aftercare Zhengting thrived of, even if it was part of a paid session, it was aiding his calming down and finding a way back to reality. He wished there wasn’t any, because upon the memory of his last proper sentence, heat crept up his neck and colored his face a bright red, making him hide his embarrassed expression against those firm thighs immediately. Such had really not been a confession he was supposed to make towards someone he was literally paying to fuck his brains out. Although the result was quite satisfying, considering he had indeed gotten rid of all thoughts, worries and stress, his body too lax for any tension to creep into his sore muscles at this point, because, honestly, just getting fucked in this room worked better than any Thai massage ever could. He totally got the appeal.  
“You’re really impressive, babydoll,” the older said from above, voice still raw from pleasure and the profanities grunted during sex, and if that fucker already sounded slightly hoarse, he didn’t even want to know what his own voice sounded like, after literally choking on dick and going on screaming for minutes on end. “Cumming like this… I’ve never seen anyone orgasm so hard before in my life.” It shouldn’t sound like a compliment, but fuck if it wasn’t… It made him feel torn between wanting to hide further out of embarrassment and proudly admit that it was because there was no way Yanjun would find any better fuck than him. In the end, it only turned out to be mutter of something in between ousted against clothed legs, the lack of understanding words punished with the soft of tugs against his hair before that same spot was gently scratched over to ease the skin again.  
And fuck, if he didn’t want to be a cat if only that meant he would get as many head scratches as right now, because fucking could be endlessly great but nothing beat these moments after, when he was all boneless and lax and close to dozing off while someone was playing with his ear and mumbling little praises. Although the latter was missing right now, which, for once, he didn’t mind because that forked tongue would probably just embarrass him further by spilling reasonless truths towards what had happened a while ago.  
“Rest a bit, babydoll. I’ll drive you home later,” Yanjun muttered after some moments that seemed so pleasing despite the silence and the offer was even better because, yeah, actually, that was a thing. Yanchen dating one of his closest friends and Yanjun being invited to nights out by extension. Fucking social circles and, literally, fucking in social circles. He already couldn’t stand the amused looks he’d receive from that sadistic asshole when going out tomorrow night to celebrate whatever it was they had to celebrate. He had gotten his brains fucked out, so excuse him if he forgot. At least it might give him a quickie in the toilet he didn’t have to pay for for once.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, leave comments or the world will end! Don't shoulder so many lives! (or actually do, then it's over at least lmao)  
> At least I promised to serve fast(er) and managed to as well, someone be proud of me, please. Even though this sucks. Literally. 
> 
> Since my [twitter](https://twitter.com/zhengjunist) is too dead, at least send me some [inquiries](https://curiouscat.me/dadting)? or ask about what other shit Zhengjun is into. At least I'd have references for the next time ~~don't let choking on dick become their thing, there's better things to this world than Zhengjun with an oral fixation omg~~


End file.
